


The barber surgeon and the sea creature

by embeer2004



Series: The barber surgeon and the sea [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Gen, Language Barrier, merman au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Having travelled to Ard Skellig to learn more about medicine and practicing as a barber surgeon, Regis happens upon a strange creature, and two lonely monsters meet…





	The barber surgeon and the sea creature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/gifts).



> Timeline what timeline? This is an AU! Things will be different…

  
It had been nearly one year ago since Regis had travelled to Ard Skellig. One year since he’d said goodbye to his dear friend the humanist and had started on the path towards becoming a barber surgeon.  
  
He’d already perused many books on the subject of human and non-human medicine, but books and theoretical knowledge would only get him so far. He’d wanted to gain hands-on experience, and after hearing about the famous druid Gremist he’d been intent on becoming the man’s student. With just two small satchels, one for his clothes and another for his worldly possessions, Regis had boarded a ship bound for Ard Skellig and had headed to Gedyneith.  
  
Upon their first meeting, Regis had learnt that Gremist was quite an irritable druid. That hadn’t deterred him in the slightest though, and he’d managed to convince Gremist to accept him as an apprentice without resorting to any sort of vampiric interventions.  
   
Regis had been surprised to discover he actually liked these Skelliger humans. Yes, they tended to brawl and fight to settle matters, instead of talking things out like the supposedly more civilised of their kind, but they were hardy and pragmatic people. He’d only experienced a bit of trouble early on during his stay, when he’d been just one of the outsiders, but he’d been able to prove his worth to the islanders when one of the young shipwrights had gotten trapped under a half-finished drakkar. After that incident the people of Ard Skellig had warmed up to him.  
  
The seasons had passed quickly; he’d arrived in the spring and it was already nearing winter. The pleasant long days of summer had sneakily passed by and the days had grown colder and darker, though luckily Regis wasn’t bothered by the cold like his human companions.  
  
The dark though… Regis wasn’t fond of the seasonal changes. It always took a while for him to get used to the new rhythms, the change from long and sunny days to short and wet days, but once he finally had he did find pleasurable things in each season. But still, for a while he would be restless, sometimes melancholy, and it frustrated him to no ends.  
  
Thus, here he found himself now, out at the whale graveyard in the middle of the night, searching for anything salvageable or useful in order to distract his mind and just do something with his free time. He didn’t need as much sleep as the humans around him and the weather was still too good to stay cooped up inside with only a book for company. No, he needed to _move_. Perhaps he’d be lucky and stumble upon some ambergris, that was always a good find…  
  
Walking in between the whale carcasses Regis couldn’t help a shudder from ghosting through his body; the giant corpses were such poignant reminders of a creature’s mortality, but this was the way of this world’s nature he supposed. Humans had their cemeteries and funeral pyres, creature ate creature, and apparently dying whales found their way to this location ever since the time of Hemdall.  
  
Keeping his eye out for a particular good whalebone, or a lump of precious ambergris, Regis circled the graveyard. He noticed a pack of drowners some distance away and rolled his eyes, not in the mood for a fight, no matter how quickly he would be able to resolve it.  
  
A northern wind was blowing gently this night, bringing to him the sound of a soft melody, sung by a low voice, though he couldn’t hear any lyrics. Regis’ mind latched onto the tune and he felt his lips pull upwards in a smile. He kept walking through the graveyard, feeling calmer, content now as he listened to the song.  
  
He didn’t realise how much time had passed, walking slow circles around the graveyard, but it seemed like he was walking under the starry night sky one minute, and then he’d blinked and opened his eyes to the purplish colours of dawn. How odd. Regis strained his ears, reaching for the low singing voice, but the wind only brought him the noises of nature, still quiet this early in the morning.  
  
*  
  
A few nights later Regis found himself back at the whale graveyard, his mind anxious and his limbs restless. The wind was blowing stronger and earlier the Skelligers had warned him of an approaching storm. Nevertheless he found himself near the shoreline, aimlessly wandering in between the giant carcasses.  
  
The wind blew in from the north and Regis turned his body, cocking his head so he could better listen to the sounds the wind brought him. His ears twitched, hearing a low voice singing again. Curious. A bard practicing in the night? This needed further investigation. Misting up, he flew along the beach, following the voice.  
  
When he’d reached the Giants’ Toes he spotted a figure on one of the rocks jutting out of the water.  
  
Materialising a little ways away, Regis made sure to stay hidden within the tree line. There was a man sitting on top of one of the partially submerged ‘toes’, but he wasn’t anything like the Skelligers Regis had become used to. The man was pale of hair and skin, his upper chest bare, but what undeniably marked him as different was the white fish-like tail dangling from the rock.  
  
So, a merman… and one that seemed to enjoy singing in the dead of night.  
  
He really did have a pleasant voice, Regis thought. Low, lilting, fluid… it made his skin buzz warmly and he wanted to nuzzle into the feeling before realising how silly he sounded, even in his own head.  
  
Regis was content to stay there, watching and listening. His eyes roved over the creature, taking in the large fins near his waist. He’d never heard of merfolk having such large wing-like fins, perhaps there was a bit of a siren in the creature? And he had such strange colouring…  
  
The more he listened to the merman’s song, the calmer his mind became until his entire body felt relaxed and his eyes became heavy. Regis settled himself comfortably against a tree and kept on listening, content.   
  
Every now and then the merman’s voice stilled, drawing Regis back from his daze, leaving him feeling bereft and empty, but after a while the creature would start another song and his mind would calm again. This continued throughout the night and when dawn approached the merman stopped singing, slipped back into the water and disappeared.  
  
Regis blinked.  
  
This was dangerous. The creature _must_ have a bit of siren in him, otherwise he wouldn’t have this thralling effect on him.  
   
His stupor released, Regis examined his surroundings with a fresh eye, taking in the trees and the shoreline. No bodies, no bones, no patches of blood-soaked sand or sunken boats in the vicinity. It was too soon to be relieved about that though, the merman could have different hunting grounds.  
  
The first drops fell out of the sky and Regis looked up, seeing dark clouds reaching all the way towards the horizon. Sighing harshly, he misted up and flew back home, determined to come back to the Giants’ Toes in the evening.  
  
*  
  
The Skelligers’ prediction of a coming storm had held true. The slow trickle of rain had become a torrent, drenching unfortunate travellers within seconds, and the wind was blowing in harsh gales. The storm had lasted well into the afternoon and finally by the time evening approached the weather had calmed again.  
  
Regis eagerly set off towards the Giants’ Toes.  
  
The pleasant low voice reached him long before he could actually make out the merman’s pale figure curled up on the same rock as the night before.  
  
Regis stood quietly in the woods, listening intently, eyes focused on the merman. He strained his ears, trying to determine whether there were actual words to the song, or whether it was only a flow of notes, but after listening for a while he still couldn’t say with any certainty.  
  
As evening progressed into night the merman quieted all of a sudden and dipped back into the water. Regis’ eyes widened in surprise and he nearly stepped out from his cover to ask the merman to stay, but after only a couple of breaths the pale figure dragged himself back onto his rock, one hand lazily hanging down one of the Giants’ Toes, fingertips touching the water.  
  
Regis felt the warmth on his cheeks as he realised he was behaving like a stalker, hiding away in the bushes and staring at another sapient being. He should just quit it and introduce himself.  
  
His slight fear of the merman with perhaps (or perhaps not) a bit of siren in him lessened throughout the night. The creature so far was just resting there, singing occasionally, without any humans in sight, and if he had spotted him he was doing a remarkable job of not letting on to it. Though… Regis felt he really didn’t intend to enchant anyone and drag them down to the bottom of the ocean. No, he was just… sitting there. Alone.  
  
Was he feeling lonely? What was actually the norm for his kind? Regis frowned, recalling that in each and every story that he knew, every book that he’d read, that vodyanoi and merfolk, even sirens, tended to flock together. Was there perhaps a difference between female groups and solitary males? He huffed silently; he really couldn’t make any suppositions, he just didn’t know enough about merfolk.  
  
He stood rooted to the spot, ashamed but unwilling to step out and make himself known. Tomorrow… he’d introduce himself tomorrow…  
  
*  
  
This time Regis steeled himself to actually introduce himself to the lone merman.  
  
Leaving a bit earlier in the day, around dusk, Regis arrived at the Giants’ Toes and settled down just a bit away from the tree line, farther on the beach, but still some way from the water. If he drew attention to himself the merman would easily spot him, but the distance would hopefully make him feel safe enough to stay.  
  
There was no sign of him though until what felt like an hour later, and again the pale figure started dragging himself on top of the rock.  
  
Regis’ keen eyes had no difficulty seeing the merman stilling his climb before looking down at the water. The creature kept his hold on the rocky toe with one hand and reached down with his other, and a slight smile appeared on the pale face. A soft burst of song escaped him, laughter ringing clear through its notes. Then he turned towards the rock and finished his climb upwards, lifting his arms up in the air and shrugging his shoulders, again gazing down at the water, no, gazing down at something _in_ the water, before making himself more comfortable on the rock, tail curling up tightly around him.  
  
This was it.  
  
Breathing in deeply, Regis slowly stood up, prepared to introduce himself.  
  
At his movement, the merman’s head turned towards him and his eyes widened with panic. His hands frantically pushed at the rock, propelling him back into the water, and he disappeared under its surface.  
  
“Please, don’t be afraid,” Regis spoke calmly, despite the fact that his heart was beating wildly in his chest; he hadn’t expected the creature to be so skittish. “I just wish to talk,” he assured, trying to find the pale figure in the water. His eyes had no luck detecting him though; he could be long gone by now.  
  
Disappointed, Regis sat down, staying where he was for the remainder of the night, hoping the merman would return. He didn’t though, and when dawn finally arrived Regis misted up and swirled back to his cottage, feeling disheartened.  
  
*  
  
The next three days Regis saw no sign of the merman, even though he spent his time along the Giants’ Toes shoreline from dusk till dawn.  
  
When dawn approached on the fourth day Regis sighed wistfully, realising it was time to give up. The merman really was gone… he wouldn’t get to hear the voice singing anymore or find out more about the creature. Such a pity…  
  
He threw himself into his studies, harassing Gremist to teach him one obscure fact after another, and in the evenings perusing the books he’d brought with him, refreshing his knowledge. With all the knowledge and practical experience he’d acquired he’d soon be ready to depart these isles and travel to the mainland, visiting old friends and plying his new trade, learning more along the road. The prospect both excited and scared him, and his sleep, the few hours that he needed, became increasingly troubled; his waking hours restless.  
  
Whenever he found himself with time on his hands he started aimlessly wandering, seeking distractions.  
  
Two weeks after he last saw the merman Regis’ wanderings unconsciously led him north. He ended up at the Giant Toes’ just as the sun was setting, which happened earlier and earlier with each passing day. He’d brought some mandrake cordial with him and, popping the flask’s cork, took a swig from the strong alcohol, sitting down on a rock close to the water.  
   
Looking up at the full moon, Regis felt a pull in his chest, remembering his foolish years while running with the plasma crowd. It was a perfect night to transform into a bat and take to the air, celebrating the full moon in all her glory, but the only drunken buzz he would be getting from now on was what his home made brew gave him. Still, a shiver fluttered in his chest as he stared up at the sky in admiration.  
  
A memory from even longer ago came to his mind; of his mother singing a lullaby to him as they both stared up at the night sky, back when he’d been a young pup. He didn’t remember the words though and he found himself humming bits and pieces of the slow tune as he tried to recall the lyrics.  
  
A sudden hard splash nearby drew him back from his musings.  
  
Regis quickly turned his gaze to the water’s surface and easily spotted a familiar mop of white hair. A tentative giddy feeling settled in his chest; he had to take care not to make any sudden moves.  
  
The merman swam a bit closer, and when they were separated by only a few metres the creature stilled, cocking his head at him. This close Regis easily spotted the frown marring the creature’s brow and the scar running vertically over the merman’s left eye. Golden eyes with black vertical slits seemed to stare _through_ him for a moment before roving over his entire form.  
  
The merman hesitantly started singing, his low voice uttering a rising and falling melody before he quieted. Then he uttered the same tune again, and it sounded a bit more hurried, no, _impatient_ and Regis realised the creature was asking him something.  
  
“Do you perhaps speak the Common Tongue?” Regis asked excitedly.  
  
All of a sudden the merman screeched softly, more like a pup’s whine, and clasped his hands over his ears. Then he dove back under the water’s surface and disappeared.  
  
Regis sighed, shrugging, and took another sip of his mandrake. He stayed on his rock, admiring the full moon in all her glory for the rest of the night, holding his own little sort of celebration.  
  
The merman didn’t show himself again that night, but that was fine. Regis was sure that he was around somewhere. He would wait…  
  
*  
  
Barely an hour after returning to his little cottage in Gedyneith Gremist had shown up, asking Regis to accompany him on his trip to Kaer Trolde. They’d first headed towards Rannvaig to visit Jonna the alchemist and then turned north towards Kaer Trolde where Regis had received his first experience with delivering a baby.  
  
The entire day clouds had been blowing over the isle, making for a gloomy winter day. A gloomy and _extremely_ busy day, and by the time they’d returned to Gedyneith Regis still shuddered, thinking of the delivery. Too many thoughts and memories swirled through his mind. The smell of the blood; the mother had lost so much of it… and the baby, so fresh… He’d done it though. He could do this, be a barber surgeon. His dear friend would be proud.   
  
Making sure no one watched him Regis misted up and swirled towards the Giants’ Toes, arriving a bit later at his usual spot.  
  
He smiled, already knowing what he would see as he’d been hearing a soft melody on the wind. The merman was curled up on his usual rock as he sang, staring into the water.  
  
Stepping out from the tree line, Regis was sure to make a bit of noise as he approached.  
  
The merman snapped his head towards him, his body tense. His tail curled up on the rock and started twitching, but otherwise he stayed still as Regis slowly approached.  
  
Regis smiled at him, taking care not to show his teeth. He knew merfolk were intelligent creatures, but as long as they didn’t have a way of communicating he’d best not make a mistake and make an unintended challenge, like the humans and primates did when they revealed their teeth. “I’m glad to see you’ve returned, I have to admit I do enjoy listening to you sing.” This time he spoke quietly, calmly.  
  
The merman hissed at him and pushed himself off of the rocky toe, falling back into the water.  
  
Regis rolled his eyes; if he reacted this prickly every time he said something he’d start calling him ‘the puffer-merman’, but after a breath or two a pale face rose up from the water, just several metres from where he stood.  
  
Lifting an eyebrow, Regis met the creature’s stare. Then he slowly sat down on one of the rocks on the beach. “Ah, so you’re willing to give this a try?” Excitement had crept back into his voice.  
  
A white tail lifted up and out of the water, only to crash back down again, creating a splash that was large enough to reach him and drench him from top to toe.  
  
Sighing, Regis glared at the creature, though his heart wasn’t in it, especially not when he saw the large grin on the merman’s face. The grin revealed his sharp and pointy teeth, perfect for rending flesh. There was a twinkle in the creature’s eyes as he started singing again, talking… sing-talking? – very slowly.  
  
Regis frowned, pondering the situation. There was a rhythm there, a cadence… He leaned forward and tried to emulate the sounds, ending up humming a stuttering tune. He didn’t need the merman’s confused gaze to tell him he hadn’t quite succeed in repeating after him.  
   
The merman was certainly interested though, his attention fully focused on him as he sing-talked another snippet at him, slower this time.  
  
Feeling a bit silly, Regis just hummed the tune back at him, laughing when the merman glared, looking affronted. Well, a little bit of revenge for the water splashing was his due right, now wasn’t it?  
  
Wriggling a bit closer, the merman started sing-talking again, his body a bit tense like he was holding himself back. Regis got the impression that the creature was taking painstaking measures trying to enunciate whatever he was trying to tell him. The sing-song cadence was much slower and Regis had to keep himself in check to prevent himself from scoffing a laugh. He always found it interesting to see how humans and elves reacted to any language barrier, and it usually resulted in either of two things: either the speaker would start shouting at the other in order to make themselves understood (which never worked as far as Regis knew), or the speaker would start speaking really, _really_ slow, focusing on pronunciation and enunciation. That of course tended to work barely any better, but if one made ample use of gestures to try and indicate what was being said some progress could be made.  
  
He didn’t even try and guess what the merman was saying and again just hummed the melody right back at him.  
  
Golden eyes narrowed, but an amused twinkle had appeared in them. Again, the merman sang, his tune slower still. “… _esseas_ …”  
  
Regis blinked. Was he imagining things? “ _Esseas_?”  
  
The merman nodded excitedly. He glided through the water and came closer, stilling when he reached the shallow water, curling his tail around himself. “ _Esseas_?” He nodded, pointing at Regis.  
  
So he had heard correctly. That sounded a lot like Hen Linge, yet slightly different. Unfortunately Regis didn’t speak the language of the Aen Seidhe, though he did recognise a few words here and there. ‘ _Esseath_ ’ was one of them. Keeping his excitement under control, Regis smiled. He knew a bit of his fangs must be peaking out but he didn’t care. It seemed like the merman could speak actual words, though the sing-song quality and the usual speed of his speech was making it difficult to make out the unfamiliar words.  
  
Regis looked at the merman and slowly lifted his hand to his chest. “ _Essea_ _Regis_.”  
  
The merman lifted his upper body out of the water and patted his own chest. Regis immediately noticed the clawed hands with light webbing between each finger and could now easily make out the light coloured shell that hung from a cord around his neck. There were several scars on his torso, but the pattern on his side was grotesque and reminded Regis of a shark bite. He’d been lucky to survive such an encounter…  
  
The creature slowly started sing-talking again. “ _Ceáthmil Reejus_ ,” he then frowned, obviously displeased with his own pronunciation, “ _essea Gwynbleidd_.”    
  
Regis felt a pleasant warmth settle around his heart, hearing the merman try out his name; ‘ _céadmil_ ’, he knew that one as well.  
   
“Gwynbleidd… nice to meet you,” Regis greeted, realising he’d reached the limit of his Hen Linge vocabulary. He should really learn the language; it was already on his to-do list after returning from Skellige. As a barber surgeon one needed to converse with their patients and he fully intended on treating both humans and non-humans. He’d be sure to learn other languages as well, after all, even humans didn’t all converse in the Common Tongue, but Hen Linge… that language was most certainly on the top of Regis’ list now.  
   
Golden eyes narrowed and Gwynbleidd huffed at him, settling back down into the water.  
  
Above them, the clouds were breaking up, and the bright moon shone down on them. That’s when Regis noticed something moving in circles around the merman; a fish only a bit bigger than his hand, silver with dark fins. It stayed close to the merman, clearly unafraid of ending up as a meal.  
  
Noticing his stare, Gwynbleidd reached a hand down in the water and sang a whistle. The fish swam to his hand and hovered in the water and, very carefully, the merman stroked the top fin.  
  
Regis snorted a laugh and settled himself down a bit more comfortably, leaning back on his rock and watching the moon up above him. She wasn’t full anymore, but still, seeing her so filled, so bright, brought a tingling to his skin.  
  
Gwynbleidd’s low voice humming softly pulled his attention away from the sky. A bit puzzled, Regis gazed back at the merman, realising it was his mother’s lullaby coming from those pale lips.  
  
Gwynbleidd looked at him, cocking his head, and hesitantly repeated one of the familiar lines.  
  
Regis started humming, wondering if he’d been humming the lullaby just a moment before or if the merman had been listening the previous day, paying close attention. Regis still didn’t recall the lyrics, but he remembered more and more of the both pleasant and slightly wistful song.  
  
Gwynbleidd’s low voice soon joined him; the merman was trying to follow his example.  
  
It was perhaps a bit silly how they both were acting, but Regis just shrugged his shoulders and continued his song. With the whole language barrier there wasn’t much for them to really talk about, but singing… humming… that was a nice place to start, breaking the ice between them as it were. He was curious to see where this would lead…  
  
Regis’ lullaby finished and he trailed off into other tunes he’d learnt many years ago. The merman seemed playful and kept trying to hum with him, or producing a counter tune. It was such delightful silliness.  
  
Gwynbleidd’s voice didn’t bring the dazed feeling over him as before when the merman had sang, but still the night felt a bit surreal. Regis stilled after a while and Gwynbleidd stopped humming too, both of them content to spend the rest of the night in a companionable silence.  
  
When the sky grew lighter Gwynbleidd turned towards the east, his golden eyes longingly scanning the horizon before turning to meet Regis’ gaze. “ _Va fáill_ ,” he sing-talked very slowly.  
  
Regis nodded. “Farewell, Gwynbleidd, until next we meet.”  
  
The merman sang a whistle, calling his silver fish close to him before swimming away, diving below the water’s surface and disappearing from sight.  
  
*  
  
The first thing Regis did when he returned to Gedyneith was tell Gremist he’d be back later in the day. Then he travelled to the shopkeeper in Blandare, wanting to know if the man had any books on the elven language. He didn’t, so Regis had headed towards Rannvaig, hoping to encounter the travelling merchant somewhere on the road. He did, but again the man didn’t have any books, only maps and crafting supplies.  
  
Regis then headed north to Kaer Trolde, where he finally found one merchant selling books, but none that he was looking for. He rejected the man’s offer of ordering some books from overseas, not seeing the point in ordering books when he would soon be leaving Ard Skellig and have the opportunity of visiting his favourite bookstore back on the mainland.  
  
Regis started imagining his trip to the bookstore in Novigrad, practicing as a barber surgeon, and then one day returning to Ard Skellig after he’d learnt enough Hen Linge to hold an actual conversation with his new friend.  
  
Returning to the Giants’ Toes just after dusk Regis was a bit confused at the silence and the absence of the pale figure on one of the toes, but his confusion turned to pleasant surprise at seeing Gwynbleidd curled up closer to the shore, near the rock he’d been sitting on the previous day.  
  
From that day on they had a new ritual and when the weather permitted it Regis found himself at the northern shore; together with Gwynbleidd trying to find ways to communicate, holding their own versions of ‘show and tell’ and otherwise just spending some time singing and humming, one of them repeating after the other.  
  
Gwynbleidd had tried to teach him some of his singing language, but the merman had quickly given up, frustrated when he realised they could only get so far with words for water, shell and rock, and Regis was still unsure whether the word he’d taught him for the little fish that tended to hover by his side was the word for fish, the type of fish it was, or this particular fish’ name.  
  
So instead Regis sat close to the waterside and hummed lazily, sometimes actually even singing; different songs that he remembered and fitted his mood.  
  
*  
  
Time passed. The moon waned, and then she waxed until she became full again and Regis felt an urge to celebrate. When dusk approached he took a flask of mandrake cordial with him for his meeting with Gwynbleidd.  
  
The merman was waiting for him already, his tail lightly splashing the water in greeting as he lifted his upper body out of the water. “ _Reejus_!”  
  
“Ah, my friend, tonight is a very important night,” Regis started calmly, taking the flask from his satchel and pointing at the sky, “the moon, the _full_ moon, is a cause of celebration for my kind. Will you join me?”  
  
Gwynbleidd looked at him curiously, then up at the sky before his golden eyes drifted down towards the flask. Pale eyebrows rose. He sang a short climbing note, sounding a bit like “ _Mir' me vara_ ” and pointed. “ _Que?_ ”   
  
Regis stepped closer to the water and sat down, not caring that the rock he’d chosen got submerged only a moment later with the flow of the waves. He pulled out the cork and handed over the flask. “Careful now, it’s a bit strong,” he cautioned, hoping the tone of his voice was sufficient to pass on the message.  
  
Taking a sip, Gwynbleidd’s nose scrunched up and he coughed, hissing softly afterwards.  
  
“Oh my, yes, I did try to warn you it is a bit strong,” Regis held out his hand in request.  
  
Instead of handing over the mandrake, Gwynbleidd took another sip and this time he sighed, patting the glass. Ah, better when he knew what to expect then… “ _Reejus, ‘ere_ ,” he handed back the mandrake.  
  
“Gwynbleidd,” Regis hummed, taking a long draw. His skin was buzzing pleasantly already from his excitement at seeing the full moon, but the cordial brought a nice warmth to his chest. It was so much better this time around, when he had someone to share the full moon with.  
  
They passed the flask between them and it seemed like the merman had become slightly drunk already after a few sips. Gwynbleidd grasped his tunic and pulled on it, trying to drag him into the water. “ _Caemm!_ ” he sing-talked, pointing towards one of the rocky toes that Regis knew was his favourite spot.  
  
Regis snorted. “While my trousers are soaked already I’m not inclined to get fully wet. Just a moment, Gwynbleidd…” Instead of going through the hassle of first getting completely wet and then awkwardly climbing out of the water Regis misted up and re-materialised on top of the rocky toe.  
  
Gwynbleidd startled and hissed, his wing-like fins unfolding and shuddering.  
  
Regis just held up his flask of mandrake cordial and patted the glass. “There’s more of the mandrake still if you’d like? Come now, friend. None of that. Like you I’m not human, no reason to be so surprised.”  
  
The merman stopped hissing and blinked once before swimming over towards the rock. He hesitated for only a moment before accepting the hand Regis offered and, again, seemed to be surprised by the ease with which Regis managed to pull him up from out of the water; his wing-like fins trembling.  
  
Once both of them were on top of the rocky toe Gwynbleidd started poking at him, his webbed hand running along the skin of his hand, squeezing lightly. He frowned and poked Regis’ hand again, trailing his long nails, then moved his hand to Regis’ lips, pulling them away from his teeth; taking in the vampire’s fangs.  
  
Regis stayed still, allowing the merman to examine him and determine for himself whatever he seemed to be looking for. Whether his form was truly physical or whether he would be a threat? Going by Gwynbleidd’s actions it seemed to be more curiosity as to the former and Regis smiled one of his rare, true smiles, allowing his fangs to show.  
  
Gwynbleidd tilted his head at him then, his gaze narrowed, before releasing a whistle that started with a high pitch and ended on a low note. He smiled with his own sharp teeth clearly visible and then curled up against Regis, twisting and turning for a bit until he found a comfortable position. Then he started singing, pointing up at the sky and tracing a line from one star to the next; nudging Regis to _look_.  
  
The merman’s voice was fluid and lilting, causing a familiar daze to settle over Regis’ mind as he gazed up at the sky, admiring the full moon. Thus it was with some surprise when, what seemed only a short moment later, worried golden eyes blocked his view and cold hands patted his cheeks. “ _Reejus? Reejus!_ ”  
  
Regis blinked, surprised again at seeing the moon so far away, the purplish hue of an approaching dawn just barely visible in the east.  
  
Smiling gently, he clasped his hands lightly around the merman’s wrists. “It’s all right, Gwynbleidd. I was just… lost in thought…”  
  
Gwynbleidd rubbed a thumb over Regis’ cheek, still looking a bit worried and he started sing-talking to him, his rhythm and cadence much too fast for Regis to make out any words.  
  
Regis released the hold he had on his wrists and instead cupped the merman’s cheeks between the palms of his hands. “Gwynbleidd… _calm_ , my friend.”  
  
The merman stilled. “ _Caelm_ …” he snorted and curled up next to him, clearly still agitated.  
  
Regis started humming softly and was glad when the figure next to him finally started relaxing, the white tail lazily twitching up and down to the rhythm of the melody.  
  
When the sun appeared on the horizon Gwynbleidd looked longingly at the ocean again, as he did every morning, but this time he seemed hesitant, clearly unwilling to leave Regis so soon after his fright.  
  
“Go,” Regis said softly, nudging him as he sat up fully, “do your thing. We’ll meet again tonight?” It was something he asked every time they parted, so by now Gwynbleidd was sure to recognise the question.  
  
“ _Yéa_ ,” Gwynbleidd nodded, patting Regis’ hand one final time before pushing himself away from the rock and plunging back into the water.  
  
Regis stayed behind for a while, trying to spot the pale figure swimming under the water, but not having any luck. Sighing, he misted up and returned to Gedyneith.  
  
*  
  
That day Regis had quite an unusual visitor. A raven, bearing a message that changed everything.  
  
Dettlaff needed him…  
  
If he’d been able to stay in his mist form for long periods he would have just misted up and swirled away, but as it was the distance was too far. Even as a bat he wouldn’t be able to make the distance in just one night, no matter that the full moon had just passed.  
  
A journey by ship it would have to be. Then once back on the mainland he would mist up and hurry southwards towards Nazair, at least being able to rest on land whenever he tired.  
  
With a heavy heart Regis headed towards Kaer Trolde, in search of a ship that would take him back to the mainland. It was in the New Port inn that he found a captain bound for Attre the following day, leaving at noon. It would have to do. That meant he had just enough time to pack his few meagre belongings and say goodbye to Gremist… more importantly, say goodbye to Gwynbleidd.   
  
That evening when he went to the Giants’ Toes Regis’ mood was foul and dull; his worry for Dettlaff and regret for needing to leave the next day weighing heavily on his mind.  
  
Gwynbleidd arrived at his usual time and immediately noticed something was wrong. He made his way towards the shallows and reached out, carefully nudging Regis’ leg. “ _Que suecc's?_ ” His sing-song voice slowly asked.  
  
“A dear friend of mine… my brother for all intents and purposes, has been injured. I need to go to him, he needs me. I… I- _Me va_.” Regis said with difficulty, and it had nothing to do with his awful pronunciation.  
  
Gwynbleidd looked at him, concerned; clawed fingers carefully reaching for the material of his trousers and pulling, wanting him closer. Regis obliged, allowing his friend to pull him into the shallows and then allowing him to turn him this way and that, searching for something before finally the merman pulled him into an embrace. Gwynbleidd started softly humming the familiar lullaby.  
  
Sighing softly, Regis wrapped his hands around the cool torso. “I’ll be back, Gwynbleidd… one day. The plan was always for me to leave, it just came a bit earlier than expected. Dettlaff…” He trailed off, the worry he felt for his brother was gnawing in his chest like a starved ghoul.  
  
Gwynbleidd pulled back just enough so he could look him in the eyes. “ _Creasa, caelm…_ ”  
   
“Calm,” Regis huffed, misting up and swirling over to Gwynbleidd’s favourite rock.  
  
The merman’s wing-fins had spread out as he startled, but Gwynbleidd swam over, raising a hand above the water and waiting until Regis had pulled him up. Then he settled down beside Regis, curling up against him. He seemed to understand that there was some time before they had to say their final goodbyes and started humming another tune, pointing at the sky and tracing patterns in the air.  
  
Regis smiled wryly and hummed back, following Gwynbleidd’s patterns. If it hadn’t been for the heaviness in his heart this night would seem like any other ones of the previous month.  
  
When the sun rose from the ocean, this time it was Regis that stared anxiously towards the west. He reached out and gently clasped the merman’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “ _Va fáill, Gwynbleidd._ ”  
  
“ _Va fáill, Reejus_ ,” Gwynbleidd returned, stroking his wrist.  
  
Sighing, Regis let go and misted up. It was time to get his belongings and travel to Kaer Trolde’s harbour. Turning around, he looked behind him one final time.  
  
Gwynbleidd was still curled up on the rocky toe, his doleful eyes following his misty shape. Then the merman lifted himself partially from the rock and started singing, his low voice resonating with sorrow.  
  
Resisting the song’s pull, Regis swirled away, certain that he would hear that wistful tune in his dreams for quite some time to come…  
  
  
**The end**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Curiosity Killed the Bat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20771888) by [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/pseuds/TrueTattoo)




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